


Glimpses of Haven: Season One

by ArtemisRayne



Series: Glimpses of Haven [1]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Drabble Collection, Episode Tag, F/M, Gen, Introspection, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2017-12-05 05:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisRayne/pseuds/ArtemisRayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles, each based on an episode of Haven, series one. </p><p>Various POVs and topics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the Edge of a Knife

**Author's Note:**

> Set during "Pilot," Audrey's POV.

You don't understand what is going on in this town. So many things happen here that you'd have never imagined outside of the cheap paperback fantasies you read. It's like you've fallen straight into a mystery novel, wrapped up in the disguise of a charming little seaside town. Things disappear, roads crack without explanation, a woman can control the weather with her emotions. The rational part of your brain wants to reject this place, pass it off as something else. Geological phenomenon. Global warming. Government testing gone wrong. A heaping helping of coincidence. Anything.

But at the same time, you can't bring yourself to do that. Haven is a mystery. A puzzle. And you love puzzles. Or rather you love  _solving_  puzzles. You are willing to believe the impossible if that's what the jigsaw pieces come together to form. You want - no,  _need_  - to find out the answers to this place.

Especially now that you've seen the Colorado Kid picture.

That woman might be your mother. Even from just the grainy black and white image you can see the resemblance. Her nose is a little sharper and her jaw a little narrower, but if her hair was blonde you could pass for at least sisters. You don't know who she is or how you're connected, but you need to find out. You've never had family before. And if she is your mother, well, then you want to ask her why. Why she left you in that orphanage instead of raising you herself. You need to know.

Of course you have no idea how much progress you'll make with these people. It amazes you the way they can completely ignore the things going on right in front of their noses. And it's not just some of them. It's  _all_  of them. They act like there's nothing strange going on, even as a woman's temper tantrum causes hurricane force winds in the middle of town, and FBI's most wanted are washing up dead on the beach. You can't tell whether it's because it happens so much they aren't fazed anymore, or if they're really just that ignorant. After seeing the expert way they can draw up cover stories from nowhere, you're inclined to think the former.

Which only makes you all the more determined to get answers. It's an authority issue you've always had. The more people tell you no, the more determined you are to do it. If only to prove them wrong. Because no matter what Nathan Wuornos tries to tell you, you know there's something going on in Haven.

You wrap your arms tighter around yourself, staring out across the water. It's close to sunset, little ripples of gold like spears over the grey water. From here, Haven looks picturesque. Little square buildings, a towering lighthouse, brightly coloured houses, and the long miles of beaches that edge town with their goldenrod sand and dark driftwood. Off to one side the sheer cliffs hover above the water, speckled with enormous pine trees.

But you know that there's so much more than what you can see on the surface. Secrets and shadows and mysteries are lurking beneath every rock and behind every wall. Especially here where you're standing on the beach, over the remains where the woman who looks so much like you stood almost thirty years ago. There's a story here but no one will share it. Not until you're one of them. People and creatures and ghosts all swirl together and they're dragging you under with them. Pulling you in. Even though you know it's happening, you're powerless to stop it. This place is claiming you. Possessing you. It's a terrifying thought.

Taking a deep breath, you pull out your cell phone and hit the speed dial. "Hey, you know that vacation time that I never use?" you ask rhetorically. Because of course he knows. He's the one always harassing you to cash it in. "I'm going to need a few weeks. There's something here I need to do."

This place is scary. But what really frightens you most is the fact that you're not scared at all.


	2. A Scratch in the Surface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Butterflies," Audrey's POV.

Nathan Wuornos is a mystery.

Even though you've been in Haven for over a week, the majority of it spent in his company, you still haven't quite got a read on him. Most people you can figure out, at least the basics. Nathan is - different. On the outside he appears to be completely emotionless. He speaks in a simple monotone. He doesn't really smile or frown, just stares for the most part. He doesn't appear to have much in the way of people skills or a social life, despite having apparently lived in Haven his entire life.

But then there are those rare glimpses of personality that he lets slip. Sarcastic jokes, wry commentary, biting quips. He doesn't talk about himself much - or talk much at all, really - but it's enough for you to pick up a few facts about it. There are some wildly obvious daddy issues going on there, an almost obsessive dedication to his work, and then there's that whole "no feeling" medical disease thing. Other than that though, the back story of one Nathan Wuornos is still unknown.

Then as you're walking out of the church he's telling you about some high school love affair with the reverend's daughter, and suddenly you realise there's this whole other side to the stoic police detective that you've never seen before.

He's not just a cop. Sometimes when you meet people you forget that they haven't always just been adults. They used to be children; have childhoods and dreams and awkward teen years. He used to be a normal little kid, growing up with his family and going to school with friends. Well, you doubt that Nathan was ever  _normal_ , but that's not the point.

You find yourself wondering what it was like for him growing up. What was his mother like? How was it being the cop's kid? Who were his friends? You've guessed there must have been something like friendship between him and Duke Crocker at some point but you're just guessing there. Was he good in school? What were his favourite classes?

Who was his first crush? First kiss? Was Hannah Driscoll his first time? Or his first love? What happened between them in the end? Why did he leave Haven? Why did he come back?

And all of a sudden Nathan Wuornos is a real person to you. He's not just one of those people passing through your life. People don't stick in your brain very well. You move around so much that if you tried to remember every person you interacted with your brain would explode. So you tend to treat the people around you like story characters. They can keep your attention long enough for you to finish that particular story and then the moment you close the book they're gone.

Nathan though, he's the character who walked out of the pages. You can't just close the Haven book and forget about him. He's got your interest. You know that there's so much story there that you haven't heard, and it's a story that you want to know. Like a sequel that hasn't been published yet, that you're just waiting for. Anticipation, interest, speculation. You can wonder and imagine all you want, but you're not going to know until the book comes out.

This is why you purposely never read books with sequels. It's a commitment you don't want to worry about.

Nathan gives a little crooked sideways smile that makes him look like an entirely different person. He doesn't look like a stoic small town cop. He looks like - you don't know. Just different. "Meteor showers are much better naked."

You don't know that other guy beneath the cop, but you're suddenly very interested in learning more.


	3. The Fine Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Harmony," Nathan's POV.

Rage. Rage and anger and hollowness.

You grip the rail of the deck tighter and take a steadying breath. It hasn't even been an hour since you came back into your right mind, and you're still a bit disoriented. Errant thoughts and emotions keep darting through your head, cutting through whatever sane thought you're trying to follow and effectively obliterating it. It's like vertigo on drugs. The worlds not just spinning around you, it's spinning inside of you too.

Your weight shifts to one leg, cocking a hip lazily as you stare out across the water. Focus on the horizon. It's easier to keep your brain on track when you've got something to focus it on. Thoughts aren't solid. The place where the ocean meets the sky is. Well, okay, technically it's not. It's just an image. A facsimile of a physical object. Kind of like you, and the way you look like a real person, but aren't.

Damn it, there you go again.

Curiously, you twist your arm and look at the spot on the underside of your forearm, where the skin is red and glossy. Not that you can feel it of course. You can remember that moment in the Scupper, when reality had suddenly skewed around you. All you could feel was hatred. Hatred for the place, for the people. Hatred for yourself and your condition.

Duke's words rang in your head.  _"Does she know you're not a_ real _boy?"_  Real. You're not real. You look like it and if people didn't know better they might even believe it. Except for the fact where they could stick a knife in your back and you wouldn't even realise it until you passed out from blood loss. It was a playground game when you were in school. Kids would throw things at you, hit you, just because they thought it was hilarious you wouldn't feel it. They sprayed water on your clothes and you walked around with your pants wet, wondering why kids kept shying away and giggling. One kid put a tarantula on your back and you didn't know it was there until it was creeping across your face.

And then of course there was the tack incident. You can still hear the screams, echoing inside your head. Can still remember the way The Chief had raged about it, raged to anyone who had listened until you felt like maybe he blamed you for not feeling all of the tacks piercing your skin. Still remember looking at your back in the mirror and seeing the angry red dots that had speckled your flesh. And the victorious grins the other boys had worn when you'd turned to look back at them in horror after realising what they'd done. Duke, who you'd once thought was your friend, had actually laughed.

Duke. That was it. It was all his fault.

It had suddenly made so much sense to you. You barrelled past Parker and headed straight for the docks. You couldn't feel pain, but you sure as hell could cause it. You were going to make him pay. For everything that he did to you as a kid. For all the trouble he's given you as an adult. For threatening to tell all of your darkest secrets to Parker. You will make him pay.

From there everything is just a blur. A swirling chaos of rage and fire. Just channelling every ounce of hatred that you have ever felt and throwing it at Duke. From the captivity of about sixty pounds worth of dock chains anyway.

Thinking back on that, your actions terrify you. You are calm. Collected. It takes a lot for you to lose your control. But there you were wild and vicious and angry. You wanted to make others feel all of the pain that you couldn't feel. There was no remorse and hesitation when you hauled back and punched Duke in the face. Or when your hands closed around his throat with the intent of getting him out of your life for good, before he could ruin everything you struggled so hard to build. No, all that you'd felt then was satisfaction. A deep-seeded satisfaction in knowing that you had caused him pain. You liked it. You thrived on it. You wanted to do it again.

You shudder and let your head drop, taking several slow breaths to steady your racing heart. As much as the Troubles worry you, at the moment the thing that you're really afraid of is yourself.

"How you feeling?"

Audrey Parker. She walks up behind you and offers you a cup of coffee. You take it but don't drink, just in case it's still too hot. You might not feel the burns on your tongue, but the swelling will impede your speech. You learned that one the hard way.

"I don't know what's worse," you answer. "Going crazy, or being sane after."

In your head you know the truth: being sane after is far,  _far_  worse.


	4. Behind the Curtain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Consumed," Nathan's POV.

You uncomfortably shift the sports jacket you're wearing, despite the fact that you can't feel the strange article of clothing. There's just something about suit jackets that makes you incredibly uncomfortable. You would much rather be sitting at home on the bench on your porch, wearing an aged flannel shirt and drinking a beer. Instead, you're wearing some of the nice, pressed clothes that so rarely make it out of the back of your closet and heading for a fancy restaurant opening.

Or at least, that's where you'll be heading after you pick up Parker. You turn the Bronco onto the road leading up to the bed and breakfast, thinking about the evening ahead. Parker suspects something will happen at the Second Chance opening and you're inclined to agree with her. After all, everything that's been happening across town all connects back to the bistro. Or at least almost everything. You're hoping that being there tonight will help prevent another incident, or at least if you can't stop it then at least you can catch whoever is doing it.

You park the truck outside the bed and breakfast and see that Parker isn't waiting for you on the porch like she usually is. Climbing out of the Bronco you walk up to her room door and knock. "Who is it?" you hear her shout from inside.

"Parker, it's me," you call back.

"Oh, Nathan. Just a second, I'm almost ready." You smirk to yourself and step back to lean against the porch railing, waiting for your partner. After a few minutes, you hear her footsteps coming to the door, and it opens.

She walks through the doorway and for a moment you're stunned. Gone are the usual button-down shirts and pressed slacks. Instead, she's wearing a simple navy blue dress that makes her pale skin glow like moonlight. Her golden hair drapes around her face in tight curls. Minute pearls hang from her ears, and her only other adornment is the glossy clutch in her hand. She glances up and gives you a shy, demure smile when your eyes meet.

And you're struck by the sudden realisation, that she's not just a cop; she's a woman. A beautiful one at that.

Except you can't think about her that way. You've developed some sort of partnership since she's been in town, maybe even a tentative friendship, and that's not the kind of relationship that merits romantic thoughts. Besides, you're pretty sure that dating is the furthest thing from her mind. She's in Haven to look into the woman who might be her mother, not to go on an awkward date with the monosyllabic cop who can't feel anything. And you don't think about her that way either, do you? No, of course not.

Parker shifts her weight from one leg to the other and gives you a strange look. "You're staring," she says. "Does it look that bad?"

"No," you say and then blush at how quickly you spoke up. Clearing your throat, you try again. "No, you look - " Beautiful, radiant, spectacular, like a dream... "Nice."

For some reason that makes her laugh and roll her eyes. "You don't look so bad yourself, Wuornos," she replies. Pulling her coat around her body, she says, "So what do you say we go catch ourselves a food rotting Troubled person?"

You follow her to the truck - determinedly  _not_  looking at the length of milky white and toned leg visible beneath the hem of her coat - and idly think that this has got to be the strangest non-date you've ever been on.


	5. In the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Ball and Chain," Nathan's POV.

Some time later you'll hate yourself for it. You know that he's never going to let it go and that he's probably going to hold it over your head for the rest of your natural born life. But at the moment you don't care. You can't think of anything except for what is happening in front of you. All you see is your childhood best friend on his deathbed.

"Duke?" you say frantically as he clutches at his chest. You know something's wrong, you can feel it. Sense it, really. In that deep part of your core that always gets those strange twinges before something bad happens. You can't feel, but you have a great intuition, and you know that something is going wrong.

You lay him back across the stairs as he gasps for air. When his eyes roll shut, you start chest compressions, praying that he holds on for a while longer. Just long enough for Audrey to figure this out because she always figures these things out and there's no way she can fail now. Not with Duke's life on the line.

He doesn't stop breathing, and you eventually stop the chest compressions, because you're afraid of hurting him. Especially stretched out on the stone steps like this, not that you dare move him. What if he breaks? This isn't the normal Duke in front of you; the over-active and youthful smuggler. No, now he's an old man only seconds away from the end. He's fragile, which is an adjective you never thought you'd attach to Duke Crocker.

"C'mon Duke, hold on a bit more," you say, kneeling down beside him and trying to keep him focused. "At least lemme get my gun."

Duke's lips quiver just slightly and you think he might have been trying to smile. All you know is that he can't go out like this. You've imagined Duke dying before, probably hundreds of times since you were teens, but you never thought it would actually happen. Honestly, you had your money on one of his smuggling deals going bad. You never thought he'd live to die of old age, even if it is premature. This scenario just isn't right with you.

As you expect, Audrey manages to pull out another miracle solution, and when she gets the new baby away from Duke, his breathing evens out. You can't help but let out a grateful sigh as his body relaxes and the catch in his breath softens. A quick call to the station gets an ambulance out to the lighthouse, and by the time Duke is loaded into the back some of the wrinkles have faded, and he's able to speak again.

"Nate?" he mumbles, his brow furrowing. "What happened?"

"You're going to be okay, we got Helena, and you're going to go back to normal," you tell him. "Right back to your annoying pain-in-the-ass self."

Duke grins just slightly, but he still looks confused. "Who's Helena? Did she attack me or something?"

"Detective, we've gotta get him to the hospital," the EMT says, and you nod, stepping back as they shut the doors and the ambulance drives away. And even though on the inside you almost hate yourself for it, the only thing you really feel at the moment is relief.


	6. Beneath the Surface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Fur," Audrey's POV.

There's something about Jess Minion that set your nerves on edge. You can't explain exactly what it is – she's friendly enough, completely cooperative, and in the end, she's _not_ a wolf-whispering serial killer, which is a mark in her favour. But from the very first time you and Nathan go to see her, something about her gets under your skin.

Perhaps it's the way she's so forthcoming that makes you suspicious. After all of this time in Haven, you're used to everyone working to keep their secrets buried away. On the other hand, Jess Minion is more than willing to tell you everything that you need and more. She talks about the Troubles openly in a way that no one else in this place has done. She is confident and accepting and honest, and after months of guardedness, you don't quite know how to take it.

Or maybe it's the way that Nathan seems so utterly fascinated by her that irritates you. It's not jealousy, of course, but you don't appreciate having a partner who can't focus on the case at hand. From that very first meeting, stoic and unshakeable Nathan Wuornos seems to suddenly lose all sense of objectivity. You start to wonder if Jess Minion is a witch because she's done something to change Nathan in a matter of seconds that you haven't been able to manage after weeks of wheedling.

In the end, though, as much as you aren't horribly fond of Jess Minion, there is one place where you most definitely have to agree with her.

You and Nathan are seated on opposite sides of Landon in the police station waiting room, trying to get through to him. Landon isn't listening, and you can physically see the tension snap in Nathan's face. Before you can stop him, he's drawn his pocketknife and split his palm open. Through your annoyance – because you're getting a little tired of his "invincibility" act – his words strike something deep inside you.

"We're different," he says. "But you know what? That doesn't make us any less than anyone else. In some ways, maybe it makes us even more."

Jess Minion's words to him, quoted almost exactly. You remember the look in his eyes when she'd said them. He had looked rather like a deer in the headlights under the scrutiny and the new perspective. It made you wonder what he's thought of himself all this time that her words shook him so strongly.

"...'Cause you're more than this," he finishes, tapping the bandage around Landon's forearm. "Maybe even a little magic."

Somehow the words work. They shatter through Landon's depressed resignation and make him finally turn back to his son, to his life. Of all the people to make a speech that would change -  _save_ \- someone's life, Nathan is the last person that you would have nominated. You're fairly sure you've just witnessed a miracle.

The problem is that the moment Landon is gone, you see the resolve crumble in Nathan's eyes. And it hits you that the words were hollow. He said them, but he doesn't believe them. You try to encourage him, you try to make him see what you see, but he listens to you about as well as Landon did. Dismissing you without so much as a goodbye, your partner stands up and leaves you alone.

Nathan might not see it, but you know that Jess Minion was surely right about this one thing. There is something inside Nathan Wuornos that is more than the other people in town; more than all of the people who think less of him because of his Trouble. And hell, maybe he is a little bit magic too.


	7. On Your Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Sketchy," Nathan's POV.

You're cursed. It's something that you've known for a long time, even though you've spent years (decades) trying to deny it. Whenever people get close to you, they get hurt. Or killed. It's happened since you were young, and it didn't go away with your Affliction. Your mum, school friends, Hanna Driscoll, your college girlfriend, Amanda. They were all varying degrees of injury, but it all boils down to the same thing; people that get close, get hurt.

That why you're so reluctant to let people get near you. Every time someone shows some vague interest in you, all you can picture is all of the millions of ways that things could go wrong. It turns you into a socially awkward mess, but it does the job of keeping people at arms' length. Audrey Parker is the first one to slip through the barriers, and even then it's only just. In your line of work, you just know that something will inevitably happen and if you let yourself get attached to her, then it will only make things worse in the end. So you're partners, but you try not to let things go any further than that.

Jess Minion changes everything. She finds that little chink in your armour that Audrey started and expands it until she's made a nice, comfortable place for herself. You don't know how she does it – perhaps because she's the first woman to be openly attracted to you in years – but she does, and without breaking a sweat. And as much as you tell yourself that it's not safe to let her get close, you start to realise that you're powerless to stop her.

For a little while, you let yourself pretend. You scramble to remember how to be a normal, single guy. You blush, and you get excited about the prospects of a date with this beautiful, intriguing woman. For that short little space of time, you let yourself forget.

And then you watch a young man's face vanish right before your eyes and you panic. You remember that this is something you'll never escape. The Troubles will never leave you alone. This curse will never stop following you, and anyone in close proximity will suffer the consequences. Jess tries to be comforting and casual about it, but you can't handle the risk anymore. You can't stand the thought that someone as good and genuine as her might wind up a victim of the Troubles simply because she was associated with you. So you drive her away and focus your undivided attention on the case again.

It's not until it's over and you're left with a moment of free time that you start to feel it. The loneliness. It creeps up inside of you in those few minutes of peace alone in your office, and you can't fight it off. You think back to the hurt and rejection on her face, and you know you've made a mistake. After all of this time, after everything that this town has put you through, you just can't keep doing it this way any longer.

So you grab a bottle of the wine you confiscated off Captain Richards boat – one of the nice ones that Duke brought in, not that you're going to let the smuggler know that – and you jump in your truck. You reach Jess Minion's house before you can lose your nerve, and when you knock on the door, you're relieved to see that she's not too angry with you. And more than anything else, when she invites you inside to "look for the prowler" you feel real happiness.

Because as much as you know the dangers and even though the weight of all of Haven is bearing down on your shoulders heavier each day, at least now you won't have to deal with it alone any longer.


	8. The Same Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Ain't No Sunshine," Audrey's POV.

It's a startling discovery to realise that you have no friends. You never really have, actually. The more you think about it, the more obvious it becomes; and the more obvious it becomes, the more it bothers you.

Making friends as an orphan is never an easy thing to do. You can remember looking around at the other kids and seeing all of the reasons they were more likely to be picked for a home than you were, and that was a bias that became hard to overcome. On the other end of the stick, it was always dangerous to get too fond of anyone because of the risk of heartbreak when they inevitably went away.

You sometimes got a bit closer with your foster siblings, but even then you wouldn't say that you were friends exactly. More like allies. You bonded together to get through the difficult transitions, and to fend off your unpleasant caregivers. Still, it was never more than defence. You stuck close to the ones who made the best teammates, protected the ones who were smaller and weaker, and when you were eventually sent back to the Sisters, you parted without a goodbye.

Perhaps that was why you never bothered to make friends in college, or while studying at Quantico. You had grown up completely independent. You took care of yourself and never needed anyone else around to help you shoulder the load. In college, there were study group mates and the occasional short-lived boyfriend, and in Quantico, it was nothing more than the other trainees you were trying to be better than.

You never even had a partner while working for the FBI. Every case you were assigned to was handled solo, and apart from your boss, you didn't actually socialise much with the other agents. You actually preferred it that way, really. No one else to drag you down, or question your instincts. It worked out for the best that way.

Which left you twenty-seven years old and without a friend in the world. At least, not until now. Not until that sarcastic, small town cop had sauntered into your life and stopped you from dying to the sounds of The Captain and Tenille. He was moody and quiet, often too serious and overly pragmatic at times. He argued with and questioned you at every turn, and he made a habit of shooting you that look that made you feel like you were a child and he was just humouring your imagination. He was frustrating and sullen and confusing.

But he'd somehow still become your best friend. And really, you didn't need a long history of friendships when you were lucky enough to have a partner like Nathan Wuornos.


	9. Through Different Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "As You Were," Chameleon's POV.

You shiver, letting your new body settle more comfortably. It’s been so long since you’ve had to change shape and you’d forgotten how long it takes to get centred. You brace yourself against the wall and take a deep breath until the feeling passes, and then you straighten up. Adjusting the straps of the dress, you give yourself one last look-over in the mirror and then head for the door. You can’t take too much longer or they will come looking for you, and you don’t want them stumbling on anything they shouldn’t see.

There are so many things you still need to take care of - the loose skin in the furnace room and the unconscious Audrey Parker tucked away in the trunk in the hideaway room, for a start - but for now, you need to keep the others from getting suspicious. You can deal with the rest of it once you’ve gotten rid of the party-goers.

Walking down the stairs from the bedrooms takes you a little while, still trying to figure out the grace and balance of a new body. You’ve been one person for twenty-seven years, and in that time you had grown comfortable in your shape. This new body is so different - lively and fit and so decidedly feminine. You can’t even begin to say when the last time was that you were a woman. Everything about the body moves differently, and that’s nothing on the way it’s making your brain warp. You find yourself examining every little thing that you pass with an intent scrutiny, cataloguing minute details that you’ve never noticed even after living in the place for nearly three decades. Her detective brain at work. 

As her thoughts and feelings begin to stabilise inside of your head, the anxiety slips to the back of your mind and you’re overwhelmed with anticipation and excitement. You practically skip down the last few steps and walk into the sitting room with a quickly mumbled excuse. There are several approving looks, included a poorly shielded one from Nathan Wuornos, and Audrey’s dormant attraction to the man sends a warm flush of pleasure across your cheeks.

Immediately, you are swept up into the party, and you enjoy interacting with these people. Some of them you know from before, from your life as Carpenter. Eleanor, and Garland Wuornos, and of course the Teagues brothers; you have met all of them at some point before. The others you know only through the filter of Audrey’s memories; flirtatious but caring Duke Crocker, newly met Julia Carr, and quiet but dependable Nathan Wuornos. They are such intriguing characters, all so different and yet all of them brought together here. To show their love for you. 

No, not you. For _her_. They are all here because they care for _her_.

Guilt wars in you as you think of the sleeping woman hidden away upstairs; the woman who only just wanted to help. You don’t understand what happened, why it didn’t work the way it always had before, but you resolve to figure it out. Perhaps you will be able to keep your shape without having to kill again. That’s all you’ve ever really wanted. Once everyone goes to bed for the night, you will go back to her and try to make things right. She deserves as much for everything that she’s done for this town in all the times she’s visited, and for all she did for you the last time when she gave you that opportunity for a wonderful life. And she deserves to feel all of the love from these people that you are feeling now.

You _will_ find a way to fix this.


	10. Fate With a Capital F

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set during "The Hand You're Dealt," Audrey's POV.

You never used to believe in fate. Even though you were raised Catholic, raised with the teachings that God had a plan for everyone, you have always been a little more pro-free will. You like to believe that people can make their futures, that they can make their own choices, that they can change their fates.

And then you meet Vanessa, and all of that is thrown into question. Here is a woman who can see the future, who can look beyond the present and see how people will die. She can see the moment that their lives will end, that they stop existing. If that isn't a strong dose of inevitability, you don't know what is.

You can't help but wonder what that means as far as a person's fate goes. If their deaths are already predetermined, chosen for them long before that moment actually comes, then what's to say that it isn't all elected beforehand? That no matter what you do with your life, it is going to end in a way that's been chosen by someone with more power than you. And if they chose that, what else did they choose for you?

Was growing up in foster care a choice made by the higher powers? Did they lead you to the career you chose, to the path you walk? Is it because of them that you're currently in a little seaside village battling things beyond your comprehension? Is it because of them that you spend your every waking moment questioning your past and wondering who you are and what your purpose here is? Was it fate that led you to the photograph of Lucy Ripley, that stirred your curiosity to a boil over the possibility of answers you've always longed for?

And maybe that is the answer. Maybe all of those things did happen to you for a reason. Maybe you were supposed to join the FBI so Howard could give you that task of chasing down Jonas Lester. Maybe you were supposed to come to Haven, to show up in the one little small town where you stumble across the first physical evidence that you even had a mother. Maybe you were supposed to be here because the people here need you; because you understand them in a way no one else does.

Perhaps it's time to stop questioning everything and just accept the facts. You are supposed to be here, to help these people, to get your answers. This is your Fate.


	11. Burnt Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "The Trial of Audrey Parker," Nathan's POV.

You don't know why he's trying to do this now. Why he's suddenly so intent on connecting with you after thirty years of nothing. And why he has to pick tonight, of all nights, to play Dr Phil.

He comes into your office after your seventh (counting the ones before Agent Howard showed up) unanswered call to Audrey, with his offer of dinner and conversation. He wants to finally break down that wall between you, to finally listen to what you've been dying to tell him for years.

So you crack, you finally let it all out. All of your frustration over his role in the Troubles; your fears when your Trouble returned; his inability to just open up and call you on your denial; his lock-jawed stubbornness when it comes to anything like being open with you. And just like you expected, he turns it around on you, makes his negligence seem like it was your fault.

The argument ends the way all of your arguments - all of your conversations, really - seem to: with one of you storming away from the other in anger.

After a long night of unanswered phone calls, your bad mood has only worsened. You arrive at the office bright and early, and the lingering tension between you and the Chief sizzles like an exposed nerve all day. Even while you're working together to try and save Audrey, there's a heady undercurrent that sets you on edge.

By the time he finally gets around to confronting you again, you've had enough. You're tired of his passive aggressive, sarcastic quips. You're tired of his down-talking. And you're sure as hell tired of the way he is shirking all responsibility for your damaged relationship. So you let him have it. You let him hear all of the anger and the frustration and the hurt that's been building up inside of you for the last thirty years.

It's only much later, when you've gotten Audrey back to safety, that you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you've damaged that bridge too badly to ever be crossed again.

 


	12. An Unbroken Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The downside to cross posting your work on multiple sites is that every once in a while, you realise you forgot to update it on one... Sorry for the delay! 
> 
> Set during "Resurfacing," Audrey's POV.

The inside of your head feels like a hurricane. Questions and theories and confusion and emotions all whirling together, throwing around the debris that is your self-identity like it's nothing more than dust and leaves. This morning you felt so sure, so confident in yourself and your place. You knew who you were and what your purpose was, and all of the questions in your life lay with something external, something and someone outside of yourself. 

Now they are all inside of you, eating away at your core like acid dissolving the very foundations that your life is built upon. 

You sit on the rock and unlace your boots. It comes off with a mighty tug, and then you peel off the thick woollen sock that keeps out the chill of spring in Maine. Propping your foot on your other knee, you twist it so you can look at the bottom. There, gleaming pale against your skin, is the scar. That little two-inch mark that destroyed everything you ever believed about yourself. 

Lucy Ripley had the same scar, a long jagged gash in the sole of her foot from a piece of broken glass, he had said. You trace a finger along the hardened flesh. When did you get the cut? You don't remember, and something about that feels wrong. It must've been a deep, painful injury to cause such a mark. Surely you should remember something so traumatic as that. So why don't you?

Is it because you've always had it? Is it because you got it twenty-seven years ago, in a time before Audrey Parker was even born? 

If you're not Audrey Parker, then who are you? Lucy? A woman you only know through an old newspaper article and a handful of whispers? It's not possible, and yet here you are. Who was Lucy? Was she someone before too, someone else before she became the dark-haired woman who stood in this spot clutching the hand of an eight-year-old Duke Crocker? Are you the same woman who has been here all along, a woman who settled in Haven back when it began? 

None of this seems possible, but you can't stop the thoughts from churning as you rub your thumb over the knotted scar in the sole of your foot. After all of the strange and magical things you've seen since you've come to this little seaside town, is this really so far out of the realm of possibility? But where does that leave you? What are you supposed to do now?

The chirp of your phone startles you, and you hastily dig it out. An APB from the station, a crack in the road opened up on the highway by the marina. You're half tempted to ignore it, to pretend that you never got the message or that you were busy with something else, but you can't do that. Besides, with all the thoughts in your head, a distraction is a welcome relief. Sighing, you tug your sock back on and slip back into your boot. You pocket your phone and stand up, looking around you one last time. 

This is the spot where she stood, twenty-seven years ago. This is the very spot where Lucy Ripley stood. Were you there? Was that really you; you with a different name but the same face? Is this all a circle that refuses to break, keeping you trapped in its familiar loop? 

A text from Nathan, asking where you are, reminds you that you have duties beyond yourself. Your existential crisis will have to wait. You have a job to do. 


	13. At the Seams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during "Spiral," Chief's POV.

You can feel it coming. It's always been there, like a deep ache inside of your gut, but it's been getting stronger. At first, it had come slowly and steadily, but over the last few months, it's been getting exponentially worse. The worse the Troubles get, the more you can feel it pulling at you. Clawing at your insides like some wild animal trying to get free. 

It isn't difficult to know what's coming. You barely survived the last time the Troubles rolled through, and even then it was only because of her. Lucy kept you together. Her hand on your shoulder helped to push away the pain and stopped you from fracturing into tiny little pieces under the stress of it all. It's only because of her that you managed to hold up underneath it. Now that you don't have her, the cracks are inevitable. 

For a while, they were small, easier to contain. You couldn't stop them or hold them in completely, but you managed to direct them more. They went where you told them and you managed to avoid casualties, so long as you didn't count the fact that you were the reason Audrey Parker had nearly driven off a cliff her first day in Haven. Those days are long past now, and all you can do is hold on for dear life and pray that no one gets hurt. 

Seeing Max Hansen had been the tipping point on your delicate balancing act. That was the first time you completely lost all control over your Affliction. Staring into those blue eyes so similar to your Nathan's, remembering all of the pain that he had put that little boy and his mother through, something inside of you snapped. 

When you turned your back on him, the pain had come and gone in a flash of light, so quick you hadn't stood a chance. Your insides felt like sandstone, grating and shifting and crumbling into the sea. You tasted the dust in the back of your mouth. You knew, without having to see, that this time you'd caused real trouble. It wasn't some little crack in the wall of an ancient hotel or even a fracture in the road. This was real, lasting damage. 

It wasn't until you got back to the station that you learned just how bad it really had been. The lighthouse, which had survived hundreds of years and several rounds of the Troubles, was nothing more than rubble on the beach. All because you were losing control. 

It was harder to regret what happened to Hansen. That probably says something about you, that you mourn a building more than a human being, but in your mind, Max Hansen didn't equate to being a human being. He was less than; a cruel, murderous monster who took advantage of people and caused pain to anyone weaker than him. You thought of the scars that had already decorated Nathan's flesh when you adopted him, and you find you have no pity for the man now lying in a chasm in the middle of North Street. 

The problem is that now that you've lost your grip on the cracks, they're eating away at you like acid. Clawing, biting, gnashing, burning. It won't be long now, you know that. That's why you take your old revolver and head to the beach. Your insides are caving, splitting and rebuilding over and over again as you struggle to keep ahold of the entire town. So much land, so many people, so many lives depending on you stopping this. And there's only one way left.

They find you, and you're not surprised. Brilliant detectives, the both of them, regardless of what you may have said in the past. Part of you hates this, knowing that he's going to see it, but the selfish part of you is glad to have him here. He's your son, blood or not, and you're fine with his face being the last thing you see. You try to explain, to warn them of what's coming, but you don't have much time. The ground is splintering all around you because you can't hold it in any longer. 

"Goodbye, son." 

Taking a deep breath, you summon all of your strength, and you draw it all back in. It's agonising, stabbing, and breaking; everything is tearing apart. You can feel it all, every crack and fissure and divide as it swells up inside of you and rips you apart at the seams. There's one fleeting moment, one split second when you hear something outside the rumble inside of your body. 

"Dad." 

Something inside of you releases, the pain is gone, and then it's over. 


End file.
